


Do You Copy?

by orphan_account



Category: Half Life VR But The AI Is Self Aware
Genre: M/M, Multi, but its still got twists, essentially based off 'do you copy' game, implied bubby/coomer, no beta we die like men, oops! all mythos! all anomalies!!, tags will be added as things happen, this whole things just a weird au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-16
Updated: 2020-07-29
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:47:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25301095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Your name is Gordon Freeman, and you are sure of two things:1. You were hired by Black Mesa to oversee a large portion of forest in the middle of nowhere. You have found safety in the confines your watch tower, and unease with your radio. You are not to tamper with the radio.2. There's supposed to be something in the forest. Many things, actually.Gordon Freeman is unsure however, of what, who, and why those things are there.
Relationships: Benrey/Gordon Freeman, Bubby & Dr. Coomer (Half-Life)
Comments: 44
Kudos: 161





	1. think of these thoughts as limitless light

Gordon Freeman was a man with little ties to a life at home. Beyond visiting his son and looking for a job to curve his time spent alone, it was kind of sad what he considered the daily ritual of life.

_Well, he wouldn't outright admit that to himself. That was something to unpack another day. He was an MIT graduate for gods sake!_

When he found himself getting a call back from Black Mesa of all places, he was just a little ecstatic. The job outline was scrounged up from nowhere particularly enthusing, but as far as Gordon knew, he'd be getting a respectable pay for something as simple as reporting from a watchtower for a few days. The details given were comparable to being told to babysit a forest and limited at that, but it was made clear he'd have food and supplies made available to him. That enough made him agree and after a little delegation, effectively brought him to where he was now- in the passengers side of a military truck driven by a security personnel.

No words were exchanged on the way there _(wherever 'there' was supposed to be)_. But Gordon expected as much. His first clue into how peculiar this job would be was the cold reception he received upon arriving at the complex. _It took him a while to find it, actually. He quickly learned it wasn't their main facility and became quite acquainted with the dead-end his GPS insisted for him to continue to drive down. Who would have thought they'd have something like this out here? It felt like millions of acres, just fenced off... and for what?_

They were indifferent to his presence, as if the procedure was nothing but a passing blink of the eye. Sure, it didn't really make Gordon feel _good_ , but he supposed it was better that than making a casual fuss over things he didn't know the half of. He briefly wondered how many others had this job before him, and it proved to be a fruitless train of thought as the scenery held his attention much easier. Overall, it seemed like any other forest. Driving off-road on a path barely worn into and surrounded by tall trees, one could consider it peaceful. _The question of why they had it fenced off continued to nag at him in the background._

It almost felt like spending hours in the same place, driving through scenery all too similar to distinguish, on and on... _and on._  
When they met a sudden clearing in the forest unlike all the others, it suddenly hit him that they arrived.

The watchtower creaked loudly in the breeze, metal supports bolted to the ground and stretching beyond the treeline in a daunting sight. Gordon had to duck and angle his head to see it in all its uninviting glory through the tinted windshield, but its oppressing height stood a chance at _something_. He had yet to identify what that something was, but the hope of Black Mesa being worth what was practically essays of _agreements_ and what he could only assume were signatures holding him to confidentiality. _That_ had been made explicitly clear at least. No one outside of the program could know what he was doing, where he was... how he got there. Unspoken threats swam in his mind.

A brief pang of something hit Gordon then, reminding him of the few personal belongings in the duffel bag at his feet that he was allotted to bring. Clothing, essentials, anything he'd need for a couple days in the middle of nowhere. Perfect.

His time came when he was prompted to leave by the stare the guard gave him. It took all too long for Gordon to get out of the vehicle apparently- because as soon as the door shut, the guy was driving off like being there was asking for trouble. Gordon didn't have the same sentiment as he approached the sets of stairs leading up the tower. _Didn't have a reason to, rather. Why did this thing have to be so fucking tall? Wasn't it on a hill anyways?_

Reaching the top awarded him with a view far more vast than he could have expected, and Gordon had to suck in a breath at the sight. He knew it was a big place, sure, but he couldn't even _see_ a skyline of the city from out here. Everything was thick with trees and occasional clearings- containing lakes and fields, all of which he knew they didn't pass by on the way. No wonder he didn't see the tower until they got there. The platform itself held an array of floodlights on each side, controlled in the main part of the structure from what he could assume. The sight of the sun setting so early made his stomach twist in a way he didn't really like, so Gordon resigned to inside the tower to settle in.

The first thing that was noticeable was the large desk dedicated to what looked closer to an industrial box than a radio- it's only function made apparent by a microphone attached to it. Dials, knobs, a numbered display... all of which he knew little to nothing on how to operate. Why did they send him up here with so few requirements or training again? The only other significant additions to his mental list of interests was the electrical panel on the wall directly behind the radio, a worn cot pressed into a corner, a mini fridge _(hey, at least that was a nice surprise)_ , and another desk framed by bookshelves and an impressive hand-drawn map. If Gordon had to guess, the papers scattered about were probably left by whoever was previously here- in a hurry, from what it looked like.

Setting down his duffel bag, he promptly fell back onto the aforementioned cot and sighed.

Gordon Freeman never knew homesickness for a life so uneventful could set in so quick.

* * *

The third day into effectively keeping watch for nothing, Gordon's next hint that this wasn't a usual job was marked by the amount of times he was contacted by Black Mesa's headquarters. The questions didn't feel off at first, but come the fourth or fifth radio interrogation, Gordon began to wonder if he was _supposed_ to be seeing something.

Sat in a chair in front of the radio, Gordon briefly glanced at the photo of Joshua meticulously propped against some equipment. He couldn't help but frown at the thought of him. _What would he be up to right now? Sleeping, probably. It was getting late._

Checking his watch again, he realized.. it was past the time they usually called in to check and ask if he's spotted anything. _What 'anything' pertained to?_ He had yet to know. 

"It's just a minute ahead, or something..." Gordon reasoned to no one, gaze dragging up to the silent radio next to him. He never touched any of the dials or buttons on it; it was already set up when he got there and was strictly advised not to attempt any tampering upon the first call. Doing so would result in 'unforeseen consequences', quote unquote. Another item to add to the 'Things Gordon would rather Not think about' box. When did this company get off on making unspoken threats?

The light hanging above him briefly flickering is what jostled him out of thought. That was... new. A brief relief from nothing interesting happening, but the idea of losing power without even knowing where a generator was wasn't a pleasant one. It couldn't be far from here if he _did_ have to do something about it, right? Did anything attached to the communication have a backup, or work without main electricity?

Eventually, he figured he may as well try to go ahead with contact first. Where was the harm in it? They only told him not to tamper with what they had set up for him. What if they... forgot? Nothing was ruled out as a possibility at the moment. Forgoing any second thoughts, Gordon held down the button to the microphone and announced his presence to Black Mesa's operatives.

"Uh, hello? This is Gordon Freeman, how do you receive?"

He released the button and was met with silence.  
Was it because they couldn't hear him? Or were they just busy? Normally, responses came quickly, it almost felt automatic. The only thing he knew about common radio codes used was the previous papers left behind by whoever was here last. Was he not intended to use those, either?

Too much he didn't know, wasn't sure of- _why didn't they train him for any of this?_ Gordon's anxiety began to spike, only when-

Noise. Slight, barely anything, but something indicating that someone was there. It was dead air, really, but still something thrilling to him. Only moments ago he was beginning to delve into exactly how far out he was- how his only connection to civilization was a fucking _radio_ with nothing but risks attached to it- and-  
_Gordon, come on man, get it together._

"Okay, okay-" he mumbled, holding the button down once again. "Hello?"

There was another noise this time, followed by a string of voices Gordon almost had to strain to hear.

_"Wh- what do we do, Mr. Coomer?"_

_"Well, our circumstances are quite odd! Why, I think we should-"_

Whoever was there was suddenly cut short by a much louder, clearer tone, causing Gordon to reel back a bit. Some kind of note, or song? He squinted at the radio, finding any previous panic melting from his thoughts like there was nothing to be worried about in the first place. Long silence stretched out after that, but he couldn't quite muster up the gall to speak a third time.

"hey."

Well, he didn't have to if he was spoken to first. Gordon's mind blanked for only a moment at the different voice greeting him. He couldn't place it as anyone he recognized and it was uncharacteristically monotone despite the casual greeting.

"... Hello?"

"yeah, i'm, gonna need some authorization. for this call. you got- some uhh, identification to show me?"

"Some... what? This-" _this is a fucking radio, how does he show them anything?_ "I- my name, is Gordon Freeman. I'm in the watchtower...?"

"which one, dude? these are- precious radio waves here, we can't waste these, c'mon, failman."

_"There's more than one?"_

Exacerbated, he let go of the button and barely even registered the name he was called. Was he not the only one out here? He wasn't told anything about that. Gordon desperately drew his attention to some of the old notes he'd compiled, scanning over the neat writing as quick as he could. It felt demeaning to have to look through others work to even get a grasp of what the hell he was doing.

"course, there's like- a whole bunch, man. you didn't know that? _don't even have your ID_ \- you doin' something suspicious, huh? yeah?"

_"What?"_ he shouted, though quickly realized the other person wouldn't be able to hear-

"you, you heard me, gordont-show-my-ID-when-i'm-told-to."

_What the fuck_. Was something broken? Did the button not matter in the first place like he thought? It lit up when pressed for a reason, didn't it?

"Listen man, I don't know what tower I'm in or, or what you _want_ from me for ID, I wasn't given any!" he responded without bothering to touch the microphone again, irritation washing over him and building just as quick as he lost his earlier anxieties. He disregarded the papers and tossed them back down on the desk. "What's your deal? Who the hell am I talking to?"

There's a pending silence on the other end, and Gordon almost questioned if he _did_ have to hit the button.

"huh?"

_You're joking._

Sighing, he ran a hand down his face and rubbed a tired eye, knuckle bumping his glasses as he did. Did he just get off on a bad foot with this person? Preserving what was left of his sanity quota of the night, he decidedly pressed the button before he spoke. 

"Listen, I think... I'm supposed to be reporting in, right now, to Black Mesa. Can you like-" he paused and gestured with his hand, as if that would help his brain supply the word quicker. "- patch me in, or something? Is that what you're supposed to do? Is this some- some kind of in-between with who I'm supposed to be talking to?"

"whuh?"

"I haven't been able to get through to anyone besides you and- well I mean there was something else but I don't know _who_ that was and I think something's wrong, and," he forced himself to pause what would have been the beginning of rambling, hand scratching the nape of his neck in a nervous tick.

"... what?"

_This is hopeless_ , he realized. Gordon released the microphone's button and groaned, holding his head in his hands for a brief moment of solace in... whatever this was. He... couldn't just avoid the voice on the line though. He held the button down again.

"Am I done here, or something? Is that what it is? I thought I still had a day or two, but if it's done, it's done, right?" Gordon raised his voice a little, continuing to vaguely gesture as he spoke out of habit. If he was doing _that_ bad of a job that they weren't even going to direct him to the facility anymore, he wished they gave him a heads up or something. Who the hell gets ghosted by an entire corporation?

"... try- try changing the channel on it. the radio."

It didn't answer Gordon's question, but there was a newfound confusion with this instruction. That was...

"Are you sure? Like- isn't that like, tampering? Orr..." _Exactly what he was told not to do?_

"maybe."

He could only make a noise of frustration, looking up at the wooden rafters and once again finding his hands covering his face.

"I don't... I don't know what you want me to do here, man." Gordon's hands fell to his lap, now staring at the radio with unease.

"wh- cringe failman can't use a radio? just- use the, the big dial, idiot. lil baby need a walkthrough?"

If the voice was attempting to egg him on, it certainly worked.

"No! What is your _deal_ , dude? Quit calling me shit!"

"quit brooding over it man, just like, change it- switch it over, to, sixty niiine. c'mon. please?" they prodded, ignoring the complaint.

"... Right." _He wasn't brooding._

The display revealed the channel was on... 53. Gordon hoped the voice was being serious about this. He tried to turn the largest dial- but it met with some resistance. _This thing wasn't rigged to fucking explode or something, right?_ A soul-searching moment later, and it suddenly gave with audible clicks, gears having gone long unused finally finding themselves freed. Gordon managed to get it right with only a little messing, raising a brow at the white noise that faded in and out between certain channels.

"No, I think _you_ fucked it up!"

"Now Bubby, it's very rude to point the blame-"

_"Hello?! Can you hear me?"_

Gordon was almost pleading for a shred of normalcy as he spoke, head ringing with the new clarity of the previously faint voices. One sounded similar, the other new again. Entirely different from the previous speaker, _that_ he had no doubt of.

"Shut the fuck- what is your problem?" they asked, clearly irritated.

Gordon ran a hand through his hair again, fearing he'd tear some out over the sheer absurdity of the situation. 

"I need, to talk. To Black Mesa. Right now." each pause was accentuated with a move of his hand, the other busied in holding a microphone button that may not even work.

There was more considering silence on the other end.

"... Well that's not _my_ problem."

He would have yelled again, had it not been for the following voice.

"Gordon! That _is_ your name, right?"

That caught him off guard. Had they really heard him state his name earlier? They all had such... _contrast_ from their voices alone. If he was being completely honest, it was almost a morbid kind of refreshing from the sterile monotone of other employees he's had to speak with. _Maybe crossing out that other weird guy who told him to change channels in the first place._

"I- yes! Gordon Freeman, do you know-"

"Hello, Gordon!"

_That's... yeah, okay._

"M- Mr. Freeman? Why are you on our radio?"

A third voice. They sounded more curious than the rest, but he could catch the mix of emotions that question apparently held. Was he... not directed to the right channel at all? Gordon let out a slow, thoughtful sigh.

"I uh... don't, really know?" It _was_ the truth. He didn't realize how incredulous it sounded until he actually said it.

"What are you, an idiot? Can't use a radio?" The one voice riffed, apparently taking to being rude to him as well.

"Now, let's not demean, Bubby! He could be of importance!" The 'rude one' was now appropriately filed down in his mind as _'Bubby'._ That couldn't be a real name.

"Oh- _oooh_ , yeah! Like- like in, he could help get us Darnold's coat! Or maybe-" an excited gasp, followed by a hushed tone, " _can we see the tower from here?_ "

"Splendid idea, Tommy! Gordon, could you do us all a favour and turn on one of your floodlights?"

"Floodlights...? Oh, sure, uh-" He wished he knew what possessed him to perform the next action. _Full of bad ideas tonight, apparently. Unspoken threats notwithstanding.  
_

Standing up and reaching towards the large electrical panel on the wall ahead, Gordon pulled a lever down meticulously labelled ' _FLOOD N_ ' with marker on an old piece of tape. Electricity buzzed all too loud as the light came to life in the dead of night, dragging his attention to the white glow now coming in through his window. He'd grown used to the creaks and groans of the tower's metal, but the noise of running hydro was a change he wasn't sure he liked. Gordon didn't have to guess that it was far brighter on the other side, shining out as far as it could reach on the forest below-

"Fine work, Gordon! Clear as day. We're eager to see you tomorrow night!"

" ** _WHAT?!_** "

No response. They couldn't hear him without the button being held down- that, or they all stopped talking.

He scrambled to turn the floodlights back off, but knew from the eerie silence on the line that he'd already majorly fucked up. He wasn't sure if he wanted to try and provoke a response.

Gordon Freeman thought himself a dead man as he forced himself to sleep that night. Exhaustion took him as the radio blared out another long, monotonous tone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so...thats Something!  
> i promise next chapter will actually HAVE other characters and not just a bunch of disembodied voices and gordon's attempts to curb his anxiety. i've never written anything in my life and i beg of you to be nice to me while i figure characters out please dude. i also implore you to take a look at the short game 'do you copy?' i've been a longtime fan of, which i'm essentially taking the building blocks from and building off of. au of a game au? yeah  
> i'm not gonna spoil who is what in the tags. thought i'd leave it a surprise lol  
> (might link my tumblr next chapter if this actually like, goes well.. thoughts and kudos appreciated! :y )


	2. exposing, closing, circuitry of fright

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi!! so, quick notes here + lil something to reiterate!  
> \- one. i cant express how happy i am about the positive reception to this fic!! that really pushed me to like. get at writing this out for yall right away. comments mean everything to me! i don't have any buffer chapters and i'm kinda...winging it as i go. but we'll see! i have vague brain plans + ??? = profit  
> \- two. i haven't actually played a half life game so anything about black mesa that comes up later is either pure speculation or me just messing around  
> \- three. this isnnnt really a 'cryptid' au like you might assume? rather, i'm using more common mythos & humanoid creatures. everyone shoould show up...eventually! but the rest is a mystery from me to u.

If real wakefulness was planning to come to Gordon, it was taking it's sweet time. So was the sun, apparently.

Over the course of sleeping out in what felt like the most niche Airbnb possible, he'd grown used to waking up in the middle of the night. What with a back-breaking lack of a mattress and rough sleep schedule in general, who could blame him? The soothing sounds of groaning metal ( _no part of which was actually soothing, full disclaimer. It only made him feel like the thing would collapse at any given moment._ ) topped with jolting bursts of static administered from the radio. 

It was the first time he hadn't been roused by some amount of noise from the damn thing anyways. Maybe the channel change was a good idea, if he disregarded his current dilemma. So why was he awake now? 

Gordon's chest wrenched uncomfortably at the silence surrounding him, like isolation could crush him whole right then and there. Not even the tower made a sound as he attempted to move from place- stretch out a little, like he always would to alleviate the aftermath of the cot.

Only to find he couldn't move a muscle.

Had it not been for his previous experiences with sleep paralysis, Gordon probably would have jumped to hysterics then and there. _Not that he could move, or really express such a reaction. A full body breakdown located entirely within his brain would be just about more appropriate._ Rationalizing, his recent lapse in getting a proper amount of sleep was probably the cause of this. That and the cycle of stress that had come hand in hand with Black Mesa and that _radio._ His head spat the word out like it was poisoned.

_Okay. Fine, this is fine, actually. Nothings happening._ Gordon consoled himself, finding this period of consciousness to be a nuisance after a while longer. Had he even been asleep long? It was still pitch black out there. He just wanted to fucking rest! But no. He had to be stuck here, horribly aware of the figure in his chair to briefly meet eye contact with, and every goddamn cricket outside that the universe apparently had to offer, and-

_Wait, not fine, not fine Gordon not fine, what the fuck-_

It's eyes almost seemed to _glow_ upon receiving Gordon's recognition this time, form barely discernible in the shadows of the room. Moonlight was his only friend here, it seemed. The fact that he had... little to nothing to defend himself came as a wave of realization with immediate panic- even if he could move, what the hell would he do?

"yo."

It was that voice. _The one from the radio._ His brain nagged, but that was barely comforting, all things considered. Why were they here now? After all, Gordon wasn't expecting uninvited guests until the next night. _This was just a hallucination. Wasn't it?_

If anything, he hoped the panic wouldn't show on his expression. He didn't really know how this worked beyond the fact that he couldn't move, or speak- not voluntarily, at least. Would emotion come through at all?

They slumped a bit while he laid there and did nothing, whistling at the oh-so-warm reception.

"what, n- not what you expected, or something? well like. tough. gordo coldfeetman. you gonna chicken out on your invitation so soon? not cool, man."

_He knew how realistic dreams could be- heard stories, experienced it himself, but this was too fucking much. How could his head conjure this up from a call that didn't even last five minutes?_ Gordon tried to reason with himself, and doing so was stopped by the gaze from across the room. But they were waiting on a response, from the looks of it. Why some weird dream demon even cared about his input was beyond him.

As his sight continued to adjust to the dark, he began to make out more of whoever was in his chair. From the little light, they looked... mostly humanoid. Anything else was a shot in the dark, literally. He didn't keep his glasses on while he slept and had nothing to go off of but two blurry excuses for eyes staring him down. Anything else was pure speculation.

_Didn't that mean it wasn't a hallucination? Do hallucinations have to do a play-by-play of if he has his glasses on or not?_

Uncomfortable silence was only drawn out further as they stared at him, wordless. He actively chose to meet the gaze, in case of this being some fucked up situation where they'd get closer if he looked away.

After a while, it was the figure that gave up first, turning around to... well, Gordon didn't know.

"whatever, dude. don't gotta be all silent about it. don't wanna see your good friend benny? i didn't even- wanna show up."

He could spot the vague motion of a shrug, followed by the radio beginning to emit a low noise. _Wait, what? Benny? Was that their name?  
_

"only wanted to- to see shit, cause. tommy asked, you know? you heard tommy. and now i'm gonna have to tell him you're mean and don't answer anything. way to go man. having cringe conversation with fail snoreman. why're you even here, dude?" their voice remained monotone as ever despite the onslaught of words.

Gordon thought about just trying to wake himself up instead of going for any amount of calm and collected process- but again, the idea of doing so was immediately stopped. This time when the chair creaked and scraped across the floor, and the blurred silhouette decided to move towards him.

_Oh, fuck, no, no no no, he's not doing this. Hallucination or not, fuck EVERYTHING about this._

He felt all too exposed as they stopped next to his cot, suddenly finding the large form oppressive in its size. It felt too big to be a person. Closer up now, Gordon could make out vague human features on their face, but so much of it was shadowed by what looked to be a helmet. If he could do a double take right now, he would. It looked uncannily similar to the uniform of the person who drove him out there, yet everything felt off and _wrong_. There was something fucking _wrong_ with those eyes and he wished he would stop looking at him and he wanted out, he _needed out right now before he died of a fucking heart attack or something- why was he jumping to panic so quick?  
_

Something flickered then, the eyes squinting and studying Gordon in a way he was still too lost to pick apart. As if coming to some realization.

"whoa, man. you uh, good?"

Gordon felt like he was on the verge of screaming. He couldn't do anything.

The figure shifted. Then a moment later, there was a noise, and lights filled his vision. Blue and... green? Lime green? He didn't know what to make of it. It felt like it filled every sense, loud and bright, and went on for what was only a few seconds.

All at once, Gordon's body was met with a deep exhaustion that went beyond a few nights of interrupted rest. The knot of emotion unraveled in his chest and it felt like he could breathe again, gaze focusing on the figure now illuminated by the balls of light. _Had that... helped somehow? Did they just calm him down?_ Gordon could only hope his stare would get the question across.

Instead, it got him that same blank gaze.

"wake up, dumbass. where's your passport?"

* * *

Gordon sat straight up when he woke, greeted by blinding light and a painful protest from his back. The telltale sound of birds, metal, _god, t_ _oo much light-_ the world itself was too much for him right now. He groaned and laid back down, curling in on himself and throwing a precautionary glance to the chair across the room. Thankfully, it was unoccupied, and it looked like it was midday now. More or less, that horrible experience meant he _did_ have the chance to catch up on sleep.

Surprisingly, he found no signs of a previous panic attack despite how viscerally real it all felt in that moment. Was it because of whatever happened at the end? Everything had been so calm, suddenly- _like everything was fine in that moment._ Blearily, Gordon reached down from the cot and felt around for his glasses, finding them on top of his duffel bag where he always placed them. Pushing them up on his nose, he blinked around at the empty room again with newfound clarity.

It hit him, then.

The chair wasn't the same way, or in the same spot he left it the previous night.

His throat tightened, and Gordon chose to take his afternoon trying to quell his mind by burying himself in papers left behind by others.

It was then he remembered his earlier question, of how many others worked here before him. _And where did they all go?_

* * *

It felt like things were even more uneventful. Now left without a radio to call into and accidentally inviting potential... well, Gordon was stuck in that regard. He didn't know _what he apparently 'invited'_. The words from his self-proclaimed hallucination were able to communicate that much. Because turning floodlights on in a huge forest was apparently the equivalent to laying little welcome mat out for a bunch of _things_ that lived in the woods and perturbing nightmares.

That made a little sense, actually. He... didn't exactly try to object them coming, either. Would they have listened if he hadn't been so confused about quite literally _everything_ that was going on? Gordon could debate his actions later. For now, there were much more pressing matters to attend to. Like the fact that he was sitting on the floor, drinking a can of Sunkist and already in the middle of wrangling with his thoughts on what he was going to do next. _The suns starting to set,_ an urgent thought reminded him as the light through the windows formed imposing shadows across the room. Gordon stared dejectedly at the stacks of papers he'd gone front and back through at least 3 times now, finding nothing helpful or of relevance.

A soft clatter from the roof above him caught his attention, and Gordon stared up at the wooden rafters for a while. When it didn't continue, it was chalked up to either a bird or whatever other god awful noises this tower has left to offer. He shook his head and went back to rummaging through his brain for solutions, ignoring how shadows continued to grow and obscure things in their wake as time dragged on.

The way a particularly large one moved a very significant amount immediately disturbed him from thought again. Gordon whipped his head around to look out the window, terror filling him at the sight of _something coming down from the roof and onto the fucking railing on the platform-_

"What the _FUCK_!"

The creature scrambled and let out a startled yell, clawed feet and hands grasping for balance on the thin structure. It immediately looked at him, and Gordon could make out glasses and a _very_ human face. Save for, say, the _whole thing being made out of stone._

"You startled me, you dick!" it yelled back, pointing accusingly at Gordon as it squatted on the railing. The accused was rooted in place yet again, though this time out of fear that seemed to grip him whole every time something happened out here.

_"Is he in there, Dr. Bubby?"_ a faint, upbeat tone yelled from where he could only assume was from the ground. Gordon's eyes widened as the situation unfolded in his head, and it didn't take much to piece together that whatever he invited was already here. Bubby. _Fucking Bubby. That's not a name!_

"He's an asshole! I say we beat him up!" 'Bubby' retorted and glared at Gordon, crossing their arms defensively.

_"Ask him- ask him if we can come over!"_ a different one yelled, either ignoring or choosing not to take the stone creatures suggestion into account.

Maybe now that his blood pressure wasn't skyrocketing, that's what allowed him to spring up to his feet and fly through his options in something similar to a mental quick-time event. Bubby, again startled by Gordon, chose to clamber back up to the roof- a pair of wings spreading reflexively as it made the quick climb. _Ohhh, fuck that._

For a lack of better intuition, Gordon pursued the intruder and got what he hoped was a running start at seeing what was below the watchtower, practically cracking the door open in a rushed shoulder check. _(_ _Which, ouch, future Gordon note, don't do that again. Black Mesa was questionable but apparently its doors were perfectly reliable in the event of actually being locked_ _.)_

He was not prepared to see two other men standing at the edge of the clearing, as if afraid to leave the safety of the trees. They all met gazes immediately, Gordon's own were wide and afraid. He didn't have any room left to process where the hell 'Bubby' went.

"There's... there's a goat guy, a dog, and.. a fucked up statue demon, at my watchtower..." he sounded winded and far away from himself as he spoke, collapsing to his knees and pinching his arm out of reflex, only to wince at the pain that now radiated from the spot. _Okay, okay. This is real, and happening. We're going down now. Gordon's going down._

He fell to his side into a fetal position, very similar to the one in his wake.

_"Hello, Gordon!"_ a far voice greeted, reminiscent of the radio. He raised his head briefly to peek, spotting the short, furred man waving at him. The much taller half man, half goat joined in enthusiastically. The smiles gracing their expressions looked genuine. _Just a moment of normalcy, please._

Gordon weakly waved back, apparently just keen on surprising himself today.

_"Are you in- need of assistance, Mr. Freeman? Why are you curled up like that?"_ a concerned shout from the latter, which he pieced together to be Tommy. He's the one the thing in his dream mentioned- the name had come up on the radio too, now that he thought about it.

Okay. Bubby? Weird, stone thing with wings. Still on his roof, very rude.

Tommy. Looks kinda normal besides the hooves, legs, and horns. Felt trustworthy, for some reason?

That left... the most normal of them all. Wearing actual clothes, oddly enough. All was well except for the dog-like features and fur everywhere.

"See, I told you he's an asshole! Won't even say shit!" a loud voice interrupts, stubby-horned head peeking down from the overhang above the platform. Gordon could discern balding, sculpted hair that somehow flowed despite the texture it appeared to be, a pair of beady eyes and pointed ears, and maw full of sharp teeth. _Something kinda like stalagmites and stalactites in a cave,_ his brain unhelpfully supplied.

"Are you a gargoyle?" Gordon suddenly asked, disbelief and questioning clear in his voice. Bubby looked taken aback by this.

"Mmm.... _no_."

"No, seriously, like-" he decided to sit back up, flooded with the familiar confusion of last night. It was far better to cope with being completely perplexed than dealing with the sobered fear of _there's a possibly aggressive creature on my roof that I still have no means of defending against._ "I'm trying really, _really_ hard to wrap my head around all this and I'd like to have a little reassurance that I'm not out of my fucking mind here."

_"Now Gordon, if that's all you needed, you really should have said so!"_ the cheery voice answered, clapping their hands together and looking to Tommy.

_"We should do a trust building exercise, Mr. Freeman! Right, Dr. Coomer?"_ Tommy suggested, politely supplying Gordon yet another name. _Weird beast guy, Coomer. Checks out.  
_

_"Superb idea, Tommy!"_ they agreed.

_Okay. Wait-_

"You guys are doctors?"

"We're _scientists_ , you-"

_"You haven't unlocked that backstory yet, Gordon!"_ Coomer interrupted from below, taking it upon themselves to pass the threshold of trees with Tommy in tow. _"We really shouldn't dally now, it's getting dark! All can be sorted in a timely matter in the tower."_

"Wait, you're- you're coming in?!" Gordon's mind snapped back to the reason they were all gathered there in the first place, pulling himself up to stand. He made an exacerbated noise as he ran a hand down his face, mildly stunned by the series of events taking place.

"You're not a very good host." Bubby lightly complained, climbing back down from the roof and catching themselves on the rail yet again. The descent was louder this time and they appeared less concerned with the ordeal of being known.

Gordon breathed in and out, filing through the general state of his life in his head again before nodding solemnly.

"Right... want a, a drink, or something?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> more goofs and gaffs and funnies to be had next... maybe a little more backstory. as a treat. i chose to cut things off again cuz i'd like to keep each chapter around 3k for the sake of consistency. and also I don't wanna get too far into something at once... we got some plans, babey!! and i ultra super mega promise darnold is in the tags for a reason. hes currently hiding in my brain for plot related purposes.  
> as for that black mesa sweetvoice tl....blue to lime means you'll be fine (-: heheho


	3. think of each moment, holding this breath

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i bring you a chapter that isn't uploaded at one in the morning! its astonishing.

He wasn't sure if he'd believe it if he'd woken up yesterday and told himself what today would apparently hold.

Gordon sat on his cot, nursing an unfinished Sunkist with three- creatures? Scientists? Currently examining the room he was occupying for the last three- no, four days now, like it was one of the most interesting things they'd experienced in a lifetime. He'd turned the light on due to the dwindling daylight, and still wasn't sure if it was concerning that he felt no qualms over having these three strangers so close to him. _Desensitization_ , his mind declared.

If he had to be honest with himself, it was the most comfortably casual thing he'd experienced in Black Mesa's program yet. He'd take what he could get.

Coomer and Tommy were happy to sit on the floor, albeit Tommy a little more awkwardly in as close a cross-legged position as they could manage with a pair of goat legs. Bubby took residence in the radio chair. Overall, everyone felt like things were more placated once a couple cans of Sunkist were passed out and brief introductions were made. _Why Black Mesa had so much of the brand was another question left unanswered._ At least, this gave him time to get a proper look at them all.

Dr. Coomer. An almost dog-like face, covered in tan fur and a very slight snout protruding with the nose of an animal. It almost reminded him of a yorkshire in how the fur got longer and scruffier below the nose, much like one would see a mustache on a person. A pair of ears sat atop their head. Long fur comparable to hair ran down from the back and sides of their head, giving... a balding appearance, with how short it was on top. Ears, snout, and fur tips greyed with age. A pair of odd, fuzzy hands with clawed fingertips and paws replaced their human counterparts. _If he had to guess, there was probably a tail under the lab coat._

Tommy. Everything about this guy seemed to be part goat. They had goat-like ears at the sides of their head, and a pair of horns protruding from their scalp that curled back in the start of a spiral. Age was clear on their face despite their voice and demeanor- defined wrinkles and lines appearing whenever they smiled, which, was quite often. They wore a yellow shirt and their legs were replaced with a goats own, covered in dark, curly hair and cloven hooves for feet. It became increasingly clear why Bubby was sent to look into the tower- he would've heard Tommy come up the metal platform even if he was dead asleep.

And that left... Dr. Bubby. Easily noticed was their stone skin, a cold grey with cracks and sculpting. Despite the appearance and scrape of rock whenever they touched something or moved, they remained surprisingly agile- as proved by how easily they traversed on and off the roof. Clawed fingers, toe tips, and pointed ears- real glasses, now that he noticed, and thankfully pants. What he was most curious about were the wings on their back: very bat-like... and also brought the legitimacy of _flight_ to the table. They had to have gotten on the roof _somehow_.

... Despite experiencing what was the strangest possible sense of normalcy, Gordon had to voice his concerns at some point.

"You guys didn't like, band together and totally take over my tower just to sit around and take my drinks, right? Or do, what- 'trust exercises' or something?"

"Of course not, why would we do that?" Bubby stated, an impassive look on their face. 

"Then _why_ are you here?" he reiterated, resting his head in his palm.

"Well, as much as we _do_ love a good soda break, Gordon," Coomer spoke up, somehow managing to look sheepish. "Its been months since Black Mesa has placed someone here! We were quite thrilled to hear about you."

"You... heard about me? Wait- you know about the program too?"

"Y- yeah! Sometimes we can hear things on the radio, it- usually it doesn't work, though." Tommy explained with a slight shrug. "We were really surprised when you spoke to us, how- how did you do that?"

Gordon rubbed the back of his neck then, mimicking the shrug. "I changed the channel."

"You did _what?_ "

"O- oh, oh they won't like that, Mr. Freeman.."

"That's against protocol, Gordon!"

A collective worry seemed to fill the room, but for what reason, Gordon didn't know.

"Why are we- uh, do you wanna fill me in, maybe? On why we're, reacting like this?"

"You fucked up big time! They tell you _not_ to do that, idiot." Bubby demeaned while Coomer and Tommy shared troubled glances with each other, eventually settling their attention on Gordon again.

"Can we _stop_ with calling me an idiot, please?! I am perfectly educated, man, it is _not_ my fault nothing was explained to me!" he could feel the easy rise of irritation prickling at him already- and the expected anxiety wouldn't take long to catch up.

"Gordon, perhaps with your- _situation_ , it..." Coomer trailed off and sighed, running a contemplative hand over their can of Sunkist. "We should start over."

They all waited after that, Gordon most of all taking a moment to calm his nerves. _Well, they weren't acting like they were the threat here, he could tell that much._

"We could explain things better back in our facility- but, at this time, we... didn't think we could convince you to leave over the radio." Coomer began, voice apprehensive. "You would definitely get lost on your own. But we were hoping you would help us."

Gordon only spoke when it seemed like Coomer wasn't going to continue again.

"Help you... how? I- I barely know one thing from another here, man."

"We need something from- from Black Mesa's facility, but we... can't get it." Tommy supplied, frowning thoughtfully. "None of us can get in."

"What makes you think _I_ can get something from there? Didn't you just- act like I gave myself a death sentence or something by changing shit on the radio? How the hell do I just walk in?"

"Well, you don't have to- just go in, Mr. Freeman, we know a way, but..."

"We can't enter, Gordon. Something beyond us prevents us from doing so!"

_Huh?_

"You've, lost me again. Like you physically can't go in for some reason?"

"If you keep asking the same questions I'm going to fucking explode." Bubby interrupted, staring at him.

"Now Bubby, it's not Gordon's fault he's not cursed to remain in a forest." Coomer chastised, setting their empty can of soda down. "Certainly he can learn! Which is why he needs to come to our lab!"

"Cursed... scientists. In the woods. Cursed scientists? You're not fucking with me." he reiterated out loud, wondering if it was possible to get used to the mere _feeling_ of being confused.

"Cursed scientists."

"Cursed scientists."

"Cursed fucking scientists."

All of them came to this agreement after one another, nodding in acknowledgement. Well, that's one thing off the table.

"And... you can't leave the forest _because_ you're cursed, or?"

Bubby looked like he was going to speak again, but that was cut off by Coomer.

"Precisely, Gordon. One of our associates had an idea as to why this is, but... he's a little, well, under the weather."

The obvious questions hung in the air for some time, unspoken. _Who's this associate? What's wrong with them?_ But Gordon felt less inclined to interject with said questions this time around. Perhaps just letting them speak of their own volition would be best for now- which, after some time of nervously tapping on their can of soda, Tommy spoke up with clear worry in their voice.

"Oh, it's horrible, Mr. Freeman. Black Mesa took something very- _very_ important to our friend Darnold, and- he hasn't been right since." they explained, frowning. "He needs it back- so he can, keep working, and... well, he was really onto something this time."

The question of why they needed him now answered itself. Darnold was clearly important, whatever he _needed_ was important, and they couldn't get it themselves. _So much for having an easy job out here,_ Gordon began to think, but knew he was well passed the threshold of having an easy job since he touched the radio.

"Well don't just sit there. Are you going to help us out, or what?" Bubby prodded- but his voice lacked any malice. They looked a little nervous, now that he really took it all in. _He was their only technical solution to their problem- and he had no real reason to have to accept or say yes._ Besides maybe getting fucked up by Black Mesa whenever they catch onto what he did.

"I..." Gordon sighed again, foot tapping a bit as he quickly deliberated his options. "Could we take a rain check on that? Sneaking into a heavily armed facility is still kind of, uh, off the table for me. You know? Not exactly a big fan of jumping onto something like that. I've known you guys for all of- what, an hour, now?"

His answer wasn't very well received, to say the least. They all shared looks with each other again, silently debating what to do next.

"Gordon, would you consider coming to the lab tomorrow? There could be many more opportunities for understanding there!"

That sounded much less dangerous, in and of itself.

"I think I could do that."

It was decided, then. Tomorrow, he and the rest would be going to wherever this 'lab' was- deciding he could ask more questions on the way there. They left with hopeful parting words, to which Gordon still didn't know how to feel about. They remained in his head until he laid down to rest for the night.

_"Please consider it, Mr. Freeman. We really need this."_

_"Just- ... call me Gordon, Tommy." The small interaction had an unspoken level of trust._

_"See you tomorrow, Mr. Gordon."_

_Close enough._

* * *

Gordon woke up in the night again, but this time was relieved to find he could reach out for his glasses and put them on with practiced ease. Thank god. He didn't think he could take that nightmare twice in a row- the idea of being immobilized with that thing weighed heavily on his head. Hallucination or not, he was very professionally considering it a near death experience, as per almost having a heart attack.

Shaking that thought out of the way, Gordon got up and sat on the edge of the cot, rolling his shoulders experimentally and making an attempt to crack his back. _The sooner he got taken back, the better. Sleeping like this was not kind to him in the slightest._

All at once there was a presence in front of him, followed by a set of eyes blinking open in the dark above him- very, _very_ close to his own face. Gordon didn't feel the need to scream this time- perfectly capable of moving. Before his brain could catch up with his body, the figure belonging to those eyes was suddenly reeling back a little bit, and he felt a shot of pain run up his arm.

Oh, he just... Uh.

"what the hell, feetman?" an almost dejected tone rang out in the dark.

He socked the thing in what he'd assume was a face. It was comparable to punching a goddamn wall- _a brick one, at that._

Gordon had to choke back a laugh as the eyes continued to blink and stare, apparently put off. So many asinine things had happened within the last 48 hours, he wondered if this was what desensitization to an extreme situation felt like: finding that punching your sleep paralysis demon in the jaw is the funniest fucking thing to happen in weeks.

"what, you gonna give me a silent treatment again? only you get to throw hands this time? c'mon bro."

"Christ, sorry- you startled me man, I- wait, why am I talking to you? _Why am I apologizing?_ You're in my tower!" he realized, backing up onto the cot a fair bit. He decided for now that the more distance between them meant the better. Even if the other looked like they could care less about getting punched.

"you're in my forest." they deadpanned.

That, he... certainly was.

"Who are you?" he asked, deciding _not_ to ask _what_ they were despite how much his brain urged.

"... benrey."

"And? Come on, man, do you work at Black Mesa or something?" a reminder of last night flickered in his mind, and he glanced to try and make out what they were wearing. Glasses weren't an issue it seemed- and whatever was preventing him from making out what Benrey was wearing was a matter of darkness, and... something else. Like his brain didn't _want_ him to see what was directly there. "You _have_ the uniform, don't you?"

The figure shifted its weight a little. In the illumination of their eyes, Gordon swore he saw something fucking _ripple_ under the skin. A capricious grin spread out on Benrey's expression, revealing rows of sharp, inhuman teeth.

"that's- gonna have to see your passport, to answer that. ID and all. classified information, yeah?"

Gordon flung his hands up, completely derailing his mind from the mystery of whoever the hell Benrey was.

"I don't fucking have a passport! I- they didn't give me an ID, even! I don't have _anything!_ " he shouted, his last statement ringing to attention in his thoughts. He really... had nothing.

"sounds like uhhh- an excuse a suspicious person would make. trying to, gain intelligence, here. unidentified and shit. suspicious."

Gordon hunched as he rested his head in his hands for a moment, eventually falling back on the cot with his hands resting on his stomach.

"I got nothing, dude."

A beat of silence. Benrey's head seemed to tilt a little, grin faltering.

"... whuh? yeah, you said that."

Gordon sighed, looking away for the first time in forever and bringing his attention to the dark, blank ceiling instead. _Fuck, his hand really hurt actually, now that the initial adrenaline of the scare wore off._

"I'm- I got nothing out here, man, how else do you want me to say it? I don't know shit about the radio. I don't _know_ what Black Mesa does, or- or why the hell I'm out here, or why there's cursed scientists in the woods. There's so fucking much I don't know, man, I _just want something_ , because without it, frankly, I think I'm gonna get killed out here! I can't imagine it'd be really hard to get away with that, when you're on private property with not a goddamn thing to your name but some clothes in a bag! Do you have any idea how it feels to- to have to piece all this shit together by yourself? All at once?"

He didn't realize he was shouting until he stopped, finding the silence deafening in comparison to his voice. Gordon chanced a glance at the witness of his outburst- only to find Benrey now... laying on the floor, it looked like. Still staring at him, of course, because why wouldn't they be. The room was silent for a while longer.

"... so like, what do you want?"

...

"What?"

Benrey's gaze briefly left to look somewhere else, Gordon catching the small shrug they gave. He could see them a little better now- laid precariously under dim light. The outline of a security vest was obvious, and so were the hands resting on their stomach, tapping a slight rhythm. Impatience, or maybe nervousness? It still didn't make sense how... _big_ they were, accounting for width and height, but it was very fucking obvious they weren't human. _This is all a hallucination,_ his brain tried to reason, yet still hazard a guess that they were 7 feet tall or so.

"y- you said you don't know shit. and want to, so, what do you wanna know?"

Wait, were they... trying to comfort him, or something? He quirked a brow in interest, sitting up on his elbows a bit.

"You're serious? You'll just tell me?"

"don't make a big deal of it man, or- i'll take it back, all the, the sweet information you need to.. do whatever you do."

Fine, okay, he'd bite. _Might not get this chance again._

"Am I awake right now?"

Benrey's attention returned to him, perhaps a little surprised he didn't pursue their identity instead.

"uh.. kind of? mm- lines kinda, blurry right now. between... awake, not awake. you got a lil, incomprehensible mind. hard to explain."

Well that was even more confusing, but he'd take their word for it. A lot was... currently incomprehensible.

"... What about the people who were here before me? Where'd they all go?"

The silence that followed made Gordon's stomach wrench uncomfortably, frowning a bit.

"you ask shitty questions, man."

"Can you tell me, or not?" he demanded, sitting up straight and staring Benrey down. They didn't react besides looking away again- but their voice had sounded a bit... hesitant. It was easy to pick out between every other monotone sentence.

"fine, man, jeez. usually someone comes and, picks em' up and shit. they get taken back. i'unno what happens after that. or, some..." they trailed off, mouth opening to speak before closing again, seeming to be deciding on what to say. "sometimes they kinda, sorta get all up and lost in the woods, cuz they're stupid. can't tell where they're going."

Gordon continued to stare, giving a little gesture for Benrey to continue after a while. "And? What happens in the woods?"

Benrey squinted a bit. "huh?"

It took a moment for them to click things together, which Gordon allowed them the time to.

"wh- wait, you scared of a couple scientists? is that what's up? they're not gonna eat you or something, idiot. they already explained why they need you. why're you all- all uppity about a couple trees, man?"

Gordon slumped a bit, letting out a breath he didn't know he was holding. Benrey didn't quite take it as a noise of relief.

"just trust me, dude. please?"

Gordon gave him a look of disbelief. "Why do you think I'd do that?"

Benrey stared right through him, unblinking.

"you wouldn't be alive if you didn't change the radio channel."

Gordon woke up then.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm outing myself as a tall benrey truther but can u blame me? also convoluted plot points are my Specialty now i guess! as are cliffhangers. sorry  
> 


	4. as death minute in decimal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> first off... hi! sorry this chapter took a bit to get out. i didn't have internet for a bit and been burnt on writing. but it's a little longer than usual to make up for it <:- D  
> also yoo 100 kudos!!! y'all are too good thank you so much for this. i can't express how happy i am to have such a great reception to my first fic. never thought i'd be out here putting my writing up for others to read, but here we are! cool.

Gordon was never one to read into dreams much- but he was starting to consider it. The line between what was a delusion or a dream was drawing thin as of late, and it wasn't hard for him to second guess if the radio had made a noise or not. Only two nights of deluded sleep was enough to make him lose his grip on things apparently. Gordon could only hope his trip with the scientists would do him good. Their visit had been comforting- even before Black Mesa, his social life was particularly desolate.

He thought about Joshua again halfway through a pack of rations that still felt too hot to eat, but the numbing burn on his tongue was a distraction from a downward descent of commentary on his lack of contact post MIT. Only to come back full circle to Benrey's words.

_You wouldn't be alive if you didn't change the channel._

Was that to imply Benrey had somehow steered him from an untimely death? It felt... unlikely, obviously. Why would they have any reason to do that? But then again, they have no reason to deceive him. Not one he knows of anyways. Both times they somehow helped- or _attempted_ to when something was wrong. _Listened to him rant off about how shitty this situation was. Decided to answer his questions- mostly offer to. He didn't get as far as he wanted, but he still listened._

His feelings about his not-dream dream delusion were debatable. Benrey was debatable. And at the moment, Gordon didn't want to pile more things onto his head to sort through. The idea of leaving the watch tower today already weighed heavily enough, and he felt like he was walking circles in his train of thought. When he didn't want to think about one thing, he jumped to the next, and the cycle of topics repeated. Hand gestures and aggravated noises were all included during his mental evaluations, sometimes pacing, sometimes laid on his cot. _Nothing better than being left in your thoughts._

During one of his heated moments, Gordon didn't immediately realize there was a loud clang of metal coming from outside. It felt jarring as soon as he tuned into it though, head whipping around to look for the offender. He was alone, but the bangs continued.

Gordon stepped outside onto the platform and looked down, finding Tommy banging on one of the supports with a hoof while the others stood near. It was a little surprising they didn't just show up at his door this time- but he supposed this was the more polite equivalent.

_"Hello, Gordon!"_ Coomer's signature greeting bellowed with an enthusiastic wave, bringing Bubby and Tommy's attention up at him.

"Uh- hey!" he waved back, leaning over the rail for better visibility.

_"Are you ready to come see the lab, Mr. Freeman?"_ Tommy shouted, apparently forgoing his suggestion to call him Gordon.

"Ready as I'll ever be, I guess?" he shrugged. Should he have prepared to explore a mostly unmapped forest?

_"Let's get going then! I've only been waiting this whole morning!"_ Bubby urged with mock complaint. Their expressions were all eager and spirited, and he'd be lying if the enthusiasm didn't rub off on him a little bit.

_"Well, nothing ventured, nothing gained, Gordon!"_

* * *

The forest felt like a vice grip that closed around him as he exit the clearing, looking briefly back at the tower. His only solace. An imposing, metal giant, that he was now leaving for... well, looking ahead, it could be worse. He could have been trying to navigate this place unaided, _alone_ , or worse. _At least he still had hours of daylight._ Coomer was happy to match Gordon's pace while Tommy and Bubby kept only a little ahead, disturbing the undergrowth with each step in what almost felt like a trespassing manner. As far as he knew, he was the first person to actually come through with them here.

The path they took told him all this in and of itself. He had to appreciate the scenery- seeing it from up top left so much out of the big picture. Layers of leaves acted like a tarp overhead, sheltering out direct sunlight and only letting it come through in brief spots. When the last time he'd just _walked_ through a forest was a question he didn't even know the exact answer to- but he chose not to dwell on that.

"Are you even listening?" Bubby's grating voice brought him back to attention, finding the three staring at him. _Oh_.

"Sorry, uh, spaced out. What were we...?"

"We will reach the lab in approximately 15 minutes, Gordon!" Coomer supplied.

Gordon blinked and looked between them, taking a moment to register this. He realized then that he hadn't really taken the time to ask anything on the way like he'd planned. _Come on Gordon, no time like the present._

"So- who were we gonna meet? Darnold? What's up with him?" _Wow, smooth._

"He's- really nice, I'm sure you'll get along, Mr. Freeman." Tommy perked up at the mention, slowing their pace a little to walk alongside Gordon. He had to crane his neck up a bit to meet their gaze so close- but the faun didn't seem to mind. Coomer went ahead to catch up with Bubby, apparently taking cue to give them some company as well.

"What makes you say that?"

Tommy hummed thoughtfully, a fond look on their face. "He's kind of similar to you, Mr. Freeman. He asks a lot of questions- but, I think that's why he's good at what he does. And- you know? I- I'd trust Darnold with anything important to me. He'd really appreciate your help." they turned their attention back to Gordon to gauge his reaction, a pleasant smile on their face.

He couldn't help but return it. Something about the way Tommy spoke about the stranger brought Gordon comfort. Not in the way one would supply under false pretenses- like trying to soften the blow before going to a family event already knowing no one wanted you there and- _off track, off track._ Tommy spoke _knowingly_ , which is what he kept tucked away in his thoughts as he braced for the next question.

"He's not human though, is he?"

"Darnold is what we believe to be a selkie, Gordon!" Coomer spoke up, ever-so-informant.

Wracking his brain for some kind of reference, Gordon wasn't sure what to make of the name off the top of his head. _Oh well. Better than being immediately mortified._

"Hey- uh, speaking of which, Dr. Coomer, we haven't really established what you are...?"

"Now Gordon, we're quite aware I'm something of a beastie. Now! We have approximately 25 minutes until we get to the lab!"

* * *

Dark, looming clouds had shadowed overhead by the time they arrived at a small break in trees, bringing the problem of rain to the table. _Well, getting a little wet was the least of his problems if he had to run. He wasn't sure he could outrun these guys anyways._

The sight of the building through the trees came as a bit of a surprise- but Gordon wasn't sure what to expect out of it in the first place. It was moderately sized and not tall enough to break the treeline, probably to remain hidden. White cement made up its walls, allowing for vines and plant life to stand out against the almost sterile surface as they grew unhindered. Windowless, and overall uninteresting save for a painted logo and visible metal reinforcements. A mechanical door with a variety of panels and warning signs was the entrance- which the group made no hesitation to approach. The lack of security otherwise was chalked up to the entire _forest_ being a compound in itself- and of which, you'd probably have an easier time getting out than in. Who the hell would even find this out here without knowing about it?

_Oh, and Black Mesa was just allll about their confidentiality,_ Gordon thought bitterly.

"Dammit! Little- bitch lock, doesn't even know I've evolved past the use of fingerprints. Idiot." Bubby absently complained, visibly struggling with one of the panels. Coomer patted Bubby's arm in something of a soothing gesture, quieting the gargoyle.

"Allow me, Bubby dearest."

They took a step back, irritation lost as the shortest stepped in and took a brief look at the panel, only to wrench clawed fingers into the crack of the door and tugged once or twice as a test.

" _HAH!_ "

One exaggerated cry of exertion and one very, _very_ loud creak of metal later, entry was forcibly pried open by Coomer alone, disregarding any industrial lock that may have considered the place secure a few moments ago. They placed their hands on their hips and studied this new doorway approvingly, looking back at the rest of them and practically beaming. _Terrifying, inhuman strength, duly noted._

Bubby nudged Coomer with his elbow as he passed, mumbling a _'show off'_ \- to which the shorter scientist could only laugh warmly. Something in the way they interacted felt- well, completely ordinary. Maybe even a little homely in the oddest sense.

Gordon decided he'd analyze that later- for now, the pressing issue of _hey, we're actually here at the lab,_ was more important.

The interior had striking similarities to the first place he had to go into for the program- grey walls, shoddy lighting, loads of signs regarding warnings and regulations and painted guidelines every which way. The place looked relatively untouched, save for scuff marks left on the floor. The outside had looked to be in a state of disrepair compared to this- like a safe haven from whatever the outdoors held. The metal door clunked shut behind them, and Gordon acutely aware of what sounded like a lock clicking into place.

"Who all can- uh, open that door? From the inside, for the sake of hypotheticals." Gordon asked, hoping his nerves didn't leak into his voice too much. Much to his dismay, it definitely did.

"Why, only authorized members of the science team of course! Save for, Dr. Bubby now."

"... Why not Dr. Bubby?"

"I ground my fingerprints off at the first given moment I could! We all have our reasons, Gordon." Bubby answered, presenting him a hand covered in scrapes in a rather boastful manner. Why they did it was an entirely different story he didn't feel like prodding right now.

"Right. And- your name _is_ Bubby? You're not fucking with me?"

"Don't be fucking rude. Little- MIT bitch, do you have a degree in names? Do you have problems?"

Gordon blinked, then sighed. What made him agree to this again?

The relatively identical halls and doors became something of a blur as they continued through the facility, the repetitive sound of his own boots and three sets of clicking claws and hooves filled his ears. They stopped at an elevator door, and yet another layer was added onto his spiral of figuring out how quick he could find a way to leave if need be. It opened as soon as the button was pressed.

"We're going down..?" It was more of a statement than a question. _The building wasn't tall enough to really bring them up anywhere._

"Most of our facility is underground, Mr. Freeman, so we can- monitor things easier." Tommy explained as they piled in, but gave Gordon a thoughtful look right after. "They uh, really don't tell you guys anything, do they? It makes sense, but..."

Tommy frowned, their expression flickering between uncertain and pensive. They shook their head a little, and looked at him again with that same soul-crushing sympathy.

"Don't worry about it Mr. Freeman, we should focus on meeting Darnold."

It didn't take an expert to pick up their dismissive tone- something was bugging them, but he decided he wouldn't inquire about it until later. Time could only lag on as the elevator rattled periodically, bringing them further down to the depths of the facility.

* * *

The actual lab was far more interesting than the ground-level building, that was for sure. The main room they entered was chock full of different screens and more panels with buttons than Gordon could begin to count. Intricate layouts of machinery lined the walls with flashing indicators, and the quiet hum of electricity practically surrounded them. It really was a wonder how any of it functioned- but that's why he had three apparent professionals guiding him around like it was a class field trip.

It came to Gordon's attention that that number had suddenly been upped to four. A figure in a lab coat faced away from them, hunched over a table cluttered with lab equipment and papers, and a solitary computer that looked to be running an array of programs. A first glance could call it a mess- but there seemed to be some method of how everything was arranged. They were engrossed in their work it appeared- paying no mind as the group approached.

Coomer and Bubby greeted on their own accord, and Tommy joined them at the table to look at what they were working on.

"A- any progress, Darnold?"

_Oh, that's... of course it was. Who else could it have been?_

Tommy was met with an uncertain hum and a shake of a head.

"Well, not really. I'm still having issues with this variable." Darnold replied, shoulders dropping. He sounded clearly drained- and evidence of that was made clearer when he turned around to face the rest of them. It came as a surprise to Gordon what with the last 24 hours of his life- but the new scientist looked shockingly human. Wisps of grey mottled in with black hair, a _very_ tired gaze- which quickly shifted from startled confusion to surprise upon seeing him.

"Oh! Dr. Freeman from the radio, I presume?"

"Uh, yeah! Yeah, you're Dr. Darnold, right?" _That was obvious,_ he only realized immediately after saying it. Gordon was ecstatic to meet someone so ordinary regardless- especially when whatever expectations for such were already lowered by three other creatures who jumped his watchtower. It was another surprise to be referred to with his doctorate right away.

The two shook hands in a very normal, professional manner. Gordon was considering this the highlight of his day thus far.

"Yea. I'm sure you're already aware of what's going on if you're here...?" Darnold inquired, looking a little more bright now.

"Black Mesa took something and- you need it back. Right? 'Cause that's uh- all I really got here." Gordon replied, scratching the back of his neck and offering a shrug. _Was there more he should know?_

"That there's the gist. And you know what we're researching?" he continued, turning back to clean up his workspace a little- arranging papers here and there, straightening a flask or two-

"I have... no clue what you guys are doing down here. I'm just- I was just supposed to be in the watchtower, man." Gordon didn't miss how Darnold's hands stalled upon him saying this, which was one hell of an indicator if he could ever pick one up.

"We should move this get-together to the break room, gentlemen! We wouldn't want to disturb our dear Darnold's workspace, would we?" Coomer suggested, clasping their hands together. "Refreshments are due!"

The rest seemed to agree with this- and before he knew it, Gordon was being herded off yet again. The break room- which, came as no surprise. It was something you'd see in any other workplace. A bulletin board caught his eye, adorned with papers, some clearer than others- _literally, the ink was smudged to all hell on some of them-_ and most of all, dated Polaroids strewn about. Some depicted parts of what was probably spots around the forest, others showing different groups of people together. Adorned in lab coats, some in the midst of working, and most others purposefully taken with each other.

Then it hit him.

"Those- are these... you guys?" Gordon slowly asked, squinting through his glasses at the similar features they presented- save for Darnold, who looked the exact same. Then again, that felt like a mundane question as he continued to take in what he was looking at. He looked back at the group, perturbed. "These were taken a _year_ ago?!"

Coomer, Bubby and Tommy were in the middle of grabbing cans of soda out of a fridge, Darnold already holding a bottle of- Powerade. _Did Black Mesa even fucking supply regular water to anyone here?_ They dispersed into something similar to a circle, taking seats on tables and the floor. Gordon joined them on the ground, accepting a can from Tommy. He wasn't sure he'd be able to drink another can of soda- let alone Sunkist after all this. None of them looked particularly bothered by his little revelation.

"... So, recap," Gordon began, absently drumming his fingers on his knee. "Dr. Darnold needs something from Black Mesa, and you're all cursed scientists. Can't leave, and... that's, really all I have." _Huh_. Sounded like even less now that he said it all out loud. He wasn't sure how he felt about that.

"Darnold? You know most about our predicament, would you care to bring Gordon up to speed?" Coomer inquired, bringing attention to the selkie. He managed to look only somewhat apprehensive about being put on the spot, but nodded after a moment regardless.

"Well... to start, Dr. Freeman, perhaps you should be aware of why Black Mesa's here in the first place. We were supposed to make use of an anomaly in this forest- it's potential was quite fascinating. We've been monitoring it down here for quite some time, even after our... accident. It's probable that it may even hold a solution to our- ah, curse, as you called it. I've been trying to develop something to help us with the data we've collected. A potion, if you will." Darnold explained, nerves fading as he spoke. It was clear that a passion for science took a hand in his dedication to his work.

"Uh- question? If it's fine to pry, what exactly do you mean by... accident?" Gordon interrupted at Darnold's pause, assuming he was taking a moment to recollect their situation. 'Accident' could have meant anything from what little he knew, but things slowly became clear yet again with the longer his question waited.

"That was, when... we attempted to breach the anomaly. Danged thing went wrong and things have been, as you can assume, less than opportune since." Darnold gestured to the science team, referring to the obvious inhuman traits among them all. "We haven't been able to go near it since, or too far from it."

"Do you know what the anomaly _is?_ Like- just a place or, a thing? Is it alive?" Gordon rattled off, absorbing this information with newfound interest now that things could be pieced together a little easier.

"We're... not sure. It's approximately in the center of the forest. Kind of a... sectioned place." Darnold spared a glance to Coomer for input. The shorter scientist looked a little taken aback at this, which morphed into worry. Gordon was beginning to mimic the expression, concerned for the sudden change in attitude.

"... Dr. Coomer?" he slowly prompted. The other scientists looked just as solemn- a tenseness in the air that was lost on Gordon.

"I've seen it, Gordon. I've seen the anomaly." Coomer began after a long bout of silence, looking at him in some distress. "There was nothing there."

"N... Nothing?"

"Nothing. There." they repeated, tone just as wearily. "The dark was all-consuming, Gordon."

The line of questions were quickly dropped as discomfort in the room rose. The whole anomaly deal was a touchy subject at best for the science team, from what Gordon could gather. Considering it was apparently the cause of what was keeping them stuck out here, it only made sense for them to react like that. And that was a new, very welcome feeling too- _things making some fucking sense for once._ He was kind of relieved to have actually come out here- a lot was explained by Darnold. There was quite a lineup of new things for him to consider, but at least there were others to voice these thoughts to.

_Rather than sitting alone up in a tower._

Gordon's attention eventually found itself on the board of pictures again, studying the Polaroids with more consideration now. Something struck him as odd in one of the group photos again, taking note that... all of them were in the picture.

"Hey uh- who took those pictures?"

"That was our friend Benrey, Mr. Freeman! He- he takes lots of them, I think they're nice." Tommy answered- and Gordon was sure his he felt his heart stop a moment then.

_"You know him?!"_ Gordon unintentionally shouted, looking between them in aggravation before flinging his arms up. "Of course he fucking- why _wouldn't_ you? He only knows _everything_ about what's going on!"

"Why are you yelling at us?" Bubby's brows furrowed as he crossed his arms, shifting a bit on the table.

"Really Gordon, Tommy simply answered your question, you should know better!" Coomer chastised, much like scolding a child.

Gordon heaved a noise of stifled anger, arms dropping back down as he shut his eyes. _Gordon breathe, breathe, come on._

"Listen- I... really appreciate, things getting explained to me and all, but do you think I could take a day to- to think all this over? I'm gonna be perfectly honest here and say I'm really on the fence about the whole uh, breaking and entering idea with the other facility." He spoke slower this time, trying to pace the running thoughts in his head.'

The rest of them seemed to appreciate his calmer tone.

"You've done a lot just to hear us out Dr. Freeman, it's- well, what we're asking you to do, I know I couldn't go out and do myself. Stuck here or not. I understand why you're apprehensive about it." Darnold offered, taking a levelheaded approach. Gordon had to appreciate his words, smiling weakly.

"Thanks, Dr. Darnold."

* * *

They eventually settled, much to Gordon's relief, on him returning to the watchtower for now. There was a brief agreement to contact each other over the radio if need be, and he couldn't quite piece together why he was so worried in the first place on even coming to the lab. It was turning into a noticeable pattern that came with the more time he spent with the group.

His stomach dropped when Tommy opened the mechanical door up to the loud patter of rain, coming down in sheets with a wind that didn't seem to want to stop. Oh, god. It wasn't like he actually had to run out of here or anything, but- _he was... hoping it wouldn't actually come down to getting soaked outside._

"Well, I'm not dealing with that." Bubby spoke first, taking a couple steps back from the doorway.

"It wouldn't be good to walk all the way- _allll_ the way back in this weather Mr. Freeman, are you sure you want to leave so soon?" Tommy asked, brow upturned in question. "You could catch a cold!"

"Illness would do us no good, Gordon. I'm afraid we'll have to postpone your trip back." Coomer stated, prompting for Tommy to shut the door again. All at once, it felt like the proverbial rug was being pulled out from under him. The same feeling of dread drilled into him, and the noise of the outdoors disappeared behind a metal barrier along with the potential of going back right away. 

Taking in a deep breath, he ran a hand through his hair and looked at them again. They clearly expressed some worried sympathy for him- even Bubby, meeting his troubled stare. _He couldn't flip his lid on them like last time._

"It's- it's fine, guys, really. Guess I'll just be here a little longer than I thought." _This is fine. It's fine._

They seemed ecstatic about this development once Gordon expressed his agreement to stay.

After all- it must've been tiring to spend a year among yourselves with no one new to interact with.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry no benny boy this time.... lots of darnold! because hes epic and needs more content in fics.  
> tommy and darnold can also be implied. u know. as a treat... dont look at me directly or anything.


End file.
